cold pasty

 cold pasty

cold pasty side door into the sound 

of the garrulous bar smoke

the child night side of asking 

for the warmth of a pasty meated 

and walked moonward in chewing

our friendship at adolescence’s door

sliding back into the lamp’s flickering 

along the longing that insists 

be loudly quiet and bind time’s loins 

ere fools be found standing on quicksand 

of many-handed shared signs that

ready settle and the contract is signed 

in dry tears of yesterday and the shallow

tears at today’s arrival at the spring

of all desire yet to be ablated by

love’s long course to the other side 

of the hill’s settled dust